Sparks Fly
by Delightfully Weird
Summary: This little gem will be a collection of so-called "one-shots" between Hunter and Morgan. This has been done a couple of times before, but this is my version. Let it be noted first 2 chapters are a little sad. Please give it a chance!
1. Angry

**Yay, first one!**

**This little "one-shot" (?) will be about Morgan's reaction to Hunter's announcement that he kissed Justine, because we didn't really get to see her reaction. She literally found out, was incredibly hurt, and then Hunter brought out Rose's diary and we didn't see our fabulous couple for roughly 177 pages.**

**And then there was _Eclipse_ and things seemed to be fine between them. I'm just saying that if I were in a relationship with someone I thought was my soul mate and he so much as flirted with another woman—not to mention the bitch was 24; nice little five-year age difference there, Cate Tiernan—I would do more than cry about being rejected. There would definitely be a silent treatment, maybe a break if he kissed her like Hunter kissed Justine, and I don't give a fuck that it was spelled.**

**It still happened.**

**Add that to the bullshit that was _Night's Child_, and I start to feel like Cate Tiernan has some issue with Morgan and Hunter just being a happy couple. Like, "oh, shit, things are going smoothly for them; let's have Morgan dream about hawks and then almost fall to her death during a dream where Cal is seducing her—that'll be great for the readers!"**

**I still have issues with _Full Circle_—sorry.**

**Just so you all know, I'm basing these one-shots off events from the book, not my version in _Chemicals React_. As always, I do not own. _Sweep_ (or _Wicca_ in the UK—I actually bought the UK version of book ten from Powell's and then bought the American version after learning that it had been edited for "sexually explicit content.") is the property of Penguin Group and the lovely Cate Tiernan.**

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><p>"You can stop pacing now," Bree pointed out, lying back on her plushy bed and patting the space next to her. "So Hunter <em>kissed<em> her?"

I nodded, finally taking her suggestion and curling up next to my best friend. "Yeah. Then he proceeded to say that he was sorry and that he loves me."

"Nothing more than that, though, right?"

"I sure as hell hope not." I muttered. "He turned down sex with me before he left, so I really hope not."

"He turned down sex?" she asked, surprise coloring her voice. "Damn, that's…different?"

I laughed, in spite of myself. "I guess you could say that."

She shrugged, and I rested my head on her shoulder. "It just feels like I'm…I don't know, not good enough for him. I mean, he's had sex with other girls before, and I'm still a virgin. How am I _not_ supposed to feel rejected?"

"Did he say why it wasn't right for you guys to be together before he left?"

"He said that it wouldn't be right because he was leaving, and he wanted to be there for me the morning after and…God, the worst part is that I'm more upset _for_ him. His mom died before Yule and his dad came back with him. I understand that he was upset and angry and confused—"

"Yes, so that excuses the fact that he totally broke his commitment to _you_."

"I didn't say that," I argued, sitting up. "I've never been more angry with him before, and I feel awful about myself. But some horrible part of me understands why it happened. Do I sound crazy?"

Bree just nodded. "A little bit." She said with a smile. "So what're you going to do now?"

"I don't want to break up, because I know he loves me." I said, on the verge of tears again. "I just don't want to be around him for a while."

"What about the circle tomorrow?"

I shrugged. "Feel like skipping with me?"

"Maybe just this once." She said, wrapping her arm around my shoulders. "It could be worse."

"How so?" I mumbled.

Bree rested her head on top of mine. "He could've listened to penis—I think you'd be more hurt had it happened."

"Guess you're right."

"Oh, I know I'm right." She said matter-of-factly, and I couldn't help the little laugh that came out.


	2. Moving On

_**Thank you for the review, Pattimo!**_

**So in my spin of things, I've decided to give a little more insight to Bree than what was mentioned in _Night's Child_. It said that she had three daughters and that she and Robbie broke up in college. Well, who's to say that Robbie didn't father Bree's first daughter while they were in college? Names were not mentioned, so I came up with my own.**

**In this little story chapter here, I wanted Morgan to just finally freak out—to take off the rose-colored glasses, if you will. She's married to Colm and has already had Moira, and is home visiting family and friends when she just loses it. I also wanted to completely erase the whole chopping-off-the-hair-in-grief thing. It made me too sad. So she still has long hair in this. Don't know why I'm saying this, but I felt it was sort of necessary.**

**Just go with me on this one, it's not as awful as it sounds! It just makes her a little more…human, I guess.**

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><p>"How's married life treating you?"<p>

"How's single motherhood treating you?" I countered, glancing over at the two-month-old baby sleeping in her car seat on the floor of my bedroom at my parent's house.

Remarkably, they hadn't changed a thing. It was still my room, just as Mary K. still had hers, though she was now at NYU in the dorms.

Bree shrugged and continued playing with her daughter's fuzzy brown hair, putting Velcro bows in it and taking them out. Genevieve was born in May; a month after Bree and Robbie broke up. She hadn't even told him until after she was home from the hospital with her.

The only reason I was here was because of my parents' thirtieth anniversary. I wouldn't have come if they hadn't practically begged to meet Moira. It also got me a get out of jail free card from my life for a few weeks, since I had refused Colm's offer to come with me.

"No denying who her father is." I said dryly. Her eyes were the same gray-blue as Robbie's, hair the same light brown shade. She had Bree's face, making her one of the prettiest babies to ever exist.

"No," Bree agreed with a sigh. "Speaking of…" she added leadingly, gesturing to Moira. "She's awfully blonde, don't you think?"

"Lots of babies are born with blonde hair—it gets darker with age." I said simply.

"So what you're saying is that you guys didn't have sex the last time you were together?" she asked, holding a squirming Gen in her lap.

I bit the inside of my cheek, looking away from her as I tried to blink my tear ducts dry. "Don't go there, Bree."

"The thought hasn't crossed your mind?"

"Of course it's crossed my mind!" I said, flippant. "Bree, I know you think you're trying to help, but you're making me go crazy. I can't let myself think that, because if I do and I find out for sure that she's not his, I won't be able to handle that!" I sniffled, the tears relentlessly sliding down my face. "I was happy when I was pregnant—I thought, finally, I can move on and get some semblance of happiness in my life again." I paused, looking down at my still sleeping baby and feeling horrible for the words that were about to come out. "But the first time I held her, I didn't feel like she was _mine_—simply because she wasn't _his_. Even now, I'll go out to the store and won't come back for _hours_ because I can't stand to be home, with Colm and Moira and acting like this big happy family."

Bree scoffed, shaking her head. "So you're just going to spend the rest of your life resenting your child because she has a different father than you wanted for her? Do you know how _sick_ that is?"

"You have no idea how hard this is for me! I barely remember _anything_ up until a few months ago!"

"Because you were _depressed_!" she shot back. "I'm sorry, I know how much you loved him, but you have to accept it—he's gone, Morgan, and he's not coming back. You have to accept what is and try to do the best you can with what you have. If you hate your life so much, _change_ it. Nothing is stopping you. You hate your husband? Get a divorce. Just don't leave her accountable for you not being happy, because she didn't ask to be born."

My throat closed up. I refused to sob—I'd done enough crying this past year for more than three lifetimes. I just felt…empty.

"Listen, I'm not trying to be hard on you. I just want you to be…all right. And you're not, that's really obvious. I'm sure your parents would be more than happy to let you move back in here, if that's what you want."

I shook my head. "We had it planned, Bree. We were going to be together forever, have kids…and then—" my voice broke on the last syllable.

Bree set Gen on my bed and reached over to enfold me in a hug, letting me cry into her shoulder. Being a mom had definitely softened her careless demeanor.

"Someday everything will work out—you just have to believe that," she promised, rubbing my back. "Life just sucks for everyone right now."

I nodded, sniffling and rubbing my eyes with the back of my hand. "I hope you're right."


	3. Dos and Don'ts

**Sweepfan24, thank you for your suggestions. I will take them into consideration. I don't know about Hunter's POV right off the bat—like I said in my other story, it's very difficult for me to write in that perspective. I've spent the last 20 years as an American girl so I really am kind of programmed to think like one. I have little knowledge of the culture there, and that's kind of a big thing. I'm also sorry if I gave off the impression that I demanded a review from you everyday. I don't. I don't require reviews at all, and so I get really excited when I get them, as I'm sure every other writer does!**

**I'm also going to make this happier—because I need to leave my PMS out of my writing and come up with something that satisfies the reader instead of inciting suicide.**

**Now to kick off this happy streak, here's one with Hunter and Morgan right after they got back together at the end of book 8!**

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><p>"It's going to be awful and intrusive and you're probably going to be asked a billion questions and you're gonna hate me, but—"<p>

I hadn't realized I'd been talking a mile a minute until Hunter held up his hands with wide eyes and motioned for me to slow down.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, wrapping my hand around his wrist. "It has to be done sooner or later." I finished.

"All right." He said with absolutely no hesitation.

My eyebrows rose. "Seriously?" I asked, biting my lip to refrain from smiling like a _complete_ idiot, but miserably failing.

"It's not like I haven't met them before…" he said leadingly.

"Under completely different circumstances," I added, letting go of his wrist and leaning over to kiss him. "Are you sure you can handle it?"

Hunter just laughed. "You're making it sound like I'm going to be walking into an interrogation room—it's dinner with your parents."

I pulled back, nodding. "It might as well be—and my sister, aunt and my aunt's girlfriend will be there, too." I reminded him. "And _they_ have never met you."

"I'm sure your mother has filled them in on the horror story that was our breakup." He said dryly. "Did you tell them I broke your heart in New York City? That I met someone else? How bad do I seem to the rest of your family?"

Shaking my head, I said, "No, they know I dumped you. My parents didn't question it, though they did seem freaked out by the fact that we got back together when they were gone."

"Why?"

I felt blush start to color my face and turned towards the fire. "I wasn't supposed to have boys inside when they were gone." I mumbled.

I didn't look, but I could hear his laugh, and then I felt his arms wrap around my waist as he pulled me onto his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck and ducked my head slightly to kiss him.

After several moments of kissing—which was even more amazing than before now that I knew what it was like to be without it—I pulled back. "Which is a rule I broke."

"You'd think they would appreciate the fact that I took care of you when you were so drunk that you barely made it to the toilet to vomit." He said, and I cringed. That so was not a memory I wanted him to have of me. "I can tell them I held your hair back, if you want."

"Definitely not!" I exclaimed. "Either of my parents find out that I was drinking, and I'll probably be sent to Catholic school or something equally atrocious."

Hunter rested his hand on my thigh. "Just tell them your brother compelled you to do it," he suggested with a sly little grin.

"I think that would open a bigger Pandora's box—'Morgan, when did you find out you had a brother? How can you have a brother when your parents were killed? What do you mean your father wasn't actually the man on your birth certificate? Did you meet him? When did you meet him? You should have talked to us first! How did you find out about your brother and father?'…See where I'm going with this?" I asked him.

"Right. No talk of Killian, Ciaran, or the events that lead you to break up with me. So what _can_ I expect?"

I grinned. "I think you're just going to have to find out for yourself—get blindsided by all the madness at the Rowlands family dinner table. Don't be afraid to suck up, though—especially to my mom about her cooking. In fact, I'll owe you for another meal just because she has no skills in the kitchen, and she insists on cooking."

He mustered up the best happy expression he could. "Can't wait. Truly—at least we can spend an entire evening together and you won't have to rush to get home by your curfew."

"Speaking of," I said dryly, looking at my watch. "I should get going. I don't want my parents to find out that I'm virtually failing school right now so I need every A and extra credit assignment I can get my hands on."

I kissed him softly and then hopped off his lap. I slid my car keys out of my pocket while Hunter and I walked to the front door, which he promptly opened for me. "I love you," I said, standing on tiptoe to kiss him again.

"Love you, too." He promised, our lips barely grazing each other. He wrapped his arm around my back, making me arch into him as our lips met again, hungrily.

I almost whined when I pulled back. "I really do have to go." I told him apologetically. "Bye." I left after giving him a small peck on the side of his mouth.

On the drive home, I wondered how I could have ever thought I could live without him.


	4. The Morning After

**First off, I am a sucker for love. I haven't been able to write anything incredibly romantic thus far with fan fiction, so I'm thrilled to be able to do that now! **

**I've been writing this for like a week and a half now—hopefully it's good! I kept wondering how the morning after Beltane would go, so here is my vision of things. I have to edit because I have a very whorish mind—I will be 21 in October, it is okay for me to think bad, dirty thoughts—but it's not always okay to share them. **

**On another note: two happy chapters in a row! Let's see if I can keep it up…**

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><p>Grass. Grass and flowers—that's what I could smell without opening my eyes. I felt fresh droplets of dew on the grass beneath my fingertips. I couldn't remember the last time I felt so…relaxed.<p>

I was almost too scared to open my eyes.

So for a while I just ran my fingertips over anything that was around me: grass, flower petals, layers of tulle underneath me, bare skin that wasn't mine.

That's when I cautiously peeled my eyes open.

The sky was just barely turning violet from the impending sunrise. I was lying on top of my skirt; my shirt was nowhere in sight. I let my eyes wander over Hunter, still sleeping next to me.

Being as quiet as possible, I sat up, grabbing my skirt from where my back had been, and searching for my green top and underwear. Found the underwear no problem. I slipped them and my skirt on and tiptoed around with my arms across my chest looking for my top in the meadow of flowers and wet grass, my feet making soft squishing sounds.

"What're you doing?" a soft, sleep-ridden, English-accented voice asked from behind me.

I turned back around, arms still firmly across my barely-there breasts. "I seem to be missing a shirt and two shoes." I told him, sitting down with a huff. I tucked my legs underneath my skirt as a breeze came out of nowhere, making me shiver.

Hunter propped himself up on his elbows, his eyes sweeping the area around him. "Don't see them," he said dismissively.

Narrowing my eyes, I leaned forward just enough so our faces were inches from each other. "Excellent observation, Hunter Niall. Now can you get off your ass and help me look?" I asked sweetly.

His hand came up to brush my hair back behind my ear. "What's the rush? It's barely dawn."

"Exactly. My parents had extended my curfew to two—not six-thirty or seven." I replied, pleading now. "I just need to get back before they're up so I can sneak upstairs."

"Morgan." He said seriously, and I stopped my searching and met his flawless green eyes. Hunter pulled me against him, and we lay on our sides again, my body arching into his for warmth as his arms wound around me. "I love you."

I smiled against his chest, walking my fingers up and down his side. "I love you, too." I replied with the sincerest tone I could muster between my tiredness and lust-filled brain of memories from the night before.

Eventually—unfortunately—the sun was rising above the trees, and I knew that it was time to leave this little piece of perfection. Hunter and I didn't say a word on the way back to his car, just held hands. It was much better than speaking; we both knew what last night meant for us. For the first time, I completely had zero doubt that Hunter and I were soul mates.

It was the best feeling in the world, knowing that we were literally made to love each other and to be together for the rest of our lives.

Hunter stopped a couple of houses away from mine and put the cark in park. He took off his seatbelt and reached across the console to kiss me, wrapping his hand around my neck to pull me close to him.

When we pulled away to catch a breath, I bit my lip softly. My lips—like the rest of my body—felt tender. Little red marks from his hands littered my waist and thighs; I'm sure I had dark red marks in various places along my neck, as did Hunter.

"Bye," I whispered, pressing my lips softly against his for another moment before opening my door.

I walked up the sidewalk and driveway as carefully as possible since I hadn't been able to find my shoes, standing on my tiptoes when I crossed some gravel.

I murmured a see-me-not spell once I got to the front door, and then I cautiously opened it. I heard my parents in the kitchen; my sister was in the shower upstairs.

I hurried up the stairs and into my room, falling right into bed, feeling more tired than I had in months.

As I drifted off back into dreamland, I thought of nothing but memories from the night before: the pressure of his hands, his lips, the shock of it hurting so much…

But it had been perfect—quite possibly the best moment of my life.

Before I fully fell asleep, I gave a silent thank-you to the Goddess for giving me one night of sheer perfection and for giving me someone who loved me as much as I loved him.


	5. Blackout

**Hey, so I'm kind of cheating a bit with this chapter. I had had this up as a one-shot on it's own, but I'm thinking it'll be better suited in here.**

**I kind of feel like we as readers got a little gipped after "Full Circle" and so here's what I think would have been awesome for Morgan's high school graduation!**

**There is sexual content. It's not very explicit, but it is sex.**

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><p>"If I knew you were going to be stressing, we would've had the party at my place!" Bree practically shouted over the amplified music.<p>

"There are people having sex in my pool, Bree!" I yelled back.

She looked over my shoulder to the back patio and laughed. "We're all eighteen, Officer Rowlands, I promise." She handed me her cup, and knowing I didn't have a choice, I drank it quickly, wincing slightly.

The last time I had gotten drunk, Hunter had found me in my underwear, puking my guts up. I did not want to relive that in front of the entire graduating class.

"Seriously, lighten up! After tomorrow we'll probably never see these people again—especially you since you're ditching us for Ireland. Just let loose for once, it won't kill you!"

"I haven't made up my mind," I said.

Bree just rolled her eyes and filled up her cup with Sprite and vodka. "You've decided, Morgan, and that's great for you! I am really genuinely happy for you, but you can't blame me for being a little bummed that my best friend is moving to another country in a matter of weeks!"

"I can say no—go to school with you in the fall. I don't have to completely detach myself from my life here."

"No, but you want to," she said, almost too quiet for me to hear. "You know you can't pass this opportunity up—and I'd be disappointed in you if you did. Hey, you're lucky! You at least know what you want to do!"

It took everything I had in me not to cry at that moment, and Bree laughed—her defense mechanism for tears. "Drink, bitch! Have fun for one night!" she laughed, handing me a cup and raising hers to mine, the red plastic momentarily bending.

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><p>Two hours later, I had let go of the fact that there were naked and horny teenagers in my pool. I had let go of the fact that my parent's house was trashed and many objects were broken. I had even let go of the fact that I hated dancing in public, as I demonstrated now, in my skimpy tank top and short-shorts nonetheless.<p>

I had even let go of the fact that I was about eighty to ninety percent inebriated and could only focus on the thrumming bass that pounded through my chest and my best friends in the same little circle as me—if we separated, then we'd all be lost in the crowded living room that had been stripped of all furniture before people had gotten here.

Eventually, though, I had to come up for air. I lightly pushed through my now former classmates and escaped to the front door, very grateful at that moment for the slight breeze in the hot June night.

I sat on my porch, resting my forearms on my thighs and leaning against them.

The steps were lined with bottles and empty cups, empty bags of chips, a condom wrapper here and there which led me to believe that the neighbors had gotten a good show tonight and would have loads to tell my parents when they got back in two days.

"Fun party?"

It took me barely a moment to register that someone had spoken, and I looked around wildly until my eyes focused on the six-foot-two blonde boy standing five feet away from me. It took even longer to realize that this was my boyfriend—my boyfriend that I hadn't seen in nearly four months, and that had only been for a day.

"Hunter?" I asked hopefully, and his grin made me rush up off the porch and into his arms. "I thought I was going to see you in three weeks?"

"Then that would've been almost five months without seeing you, and I just can't bear that," he murmured, catching my lips in a heated kiss. He recoiled after my tongue came into contact with his. "How much did you drink?"

I felt my face heat up and I took a small step back. "I didn't count," I admitted sheepishly.

Hunter just grinned and shook his head, pulling me against him again and kissing my temple. "Is there somewhere a little more private than your front porch?" he whispered. "I feel your neighbors may be a little too interested in what's going on over here."

I giggled and took his head, motioning to the front door. "I think they may have had an orgy on the front lawn earlier," I said, hearing my slurred speech and wondering if my drunken state would be a deal breaker.

Hunter just laughed as I led him inside and to my bedroom. Thankfully, the kids I had gone to school with knew _some_ boundaries, because my room had been left completely alone. I locked both the main door and the bathroom door, leaving Hunter and I to be free of interruption.

"How conscious are you?" he asked with a wicked gleam of humor in those clear green eyes.

I ignored that jab and lay down on my side across the bed. "I'm trying to remember this spell," I said.

"What spell?" he asked, lying next to me.

"Killian told me…" I replied absently. I couldn't even begin to remember it. "Last time I drank, he did this spell that made me sober for a little bit. Do you know it?" I asked hopefully.

He chuckled softly and raised himself on his elbows to look down at me. "I didn't make you drink, Morgan."

I whined and sat up. "What can I do to convince you?" I asked, straddling his waist. I kissed his neck as I unbuttoned his navy-blue shirt.

My breath caught in my throat as his hand went between my legs, resting on my inner thigh just below the crotch of my shorts—damp with excitement, sweat, and chlorinated water. His fingers expertly unbuttoned my shorts with no effort at all.

Before he could tease me like I knew he wanted to, I got off the bed and shimmied the frayed denim shorts off my hips and to the floor, followed by the removal of my black tank and underwear. I resumed my position on top of him, kissing his lips this time as I undid his jeans, smiling as I felt the already hard bulge through the material.

I may have been going too slow, or he may have just been tired of me being dominate, but either way in a matter of seconds I was underneath him on the bed, his erect member between my thighs as he kissed down my body, taking extra time around my more-developed breasts.

It had taken nearly eighteen years, but I finally ended up with boobs that were worthy of being in a small B cup bra. That was quite an achievement for me.

"Hunter," I whined. His mouth was right below my navel and right above where I wanted him.

"Yes?" he asked coyly, inching closer and closer to the one little spot he knew would drive me crazy.

"Please?" I asked in a small voice as he was hovering just above my hips. He repositioned himself so he could kiss my lips, entering me quickly before I could object, and by that point I was a goner.

It could've been minutes; it could've been hours. Eventually I hit my release just after he did, my eyes couldn't blink away the stars, my legs couldn't stop shaking from around Hunter's waist. My whole body felt alive, thrumming from the aftermath of making love with Hunter. He pulled out so painfully slow that it should've been considered torture.

When I could breathe again, I slowly turned on my side and rested my head on his chest, hearing his loud, uneven heartbeat in my ear.

"I love you," I murmured.

I felt so much better than any drug or drink could make me. More importantly, I felt sober at that moment, and for that I was grateful.

The music downstairs seemed miles away, as with the rest of my graduating class. I only focused on the blonde boy in my bed, and the slow return of his steady heartbeat as he and I both came down from a dangerous high.

"I love you, too," he promised, kissing the top of my head. "Just think," he murmured, and I looked up at him. "We get to do this again in a few short weeks."

I giggled, delighted by that fact. In a few weeks, I'd be with him in his own place. I won't need to worry about my parents coming home or him being interrupted with stuff for the new council he had decided to start up.

It would be three whole days of uninterrupted alone time with the only person who mattered.

Then it would be back to the real world.


	6. Hidden

**So incredibly sorry for my lack of updates - my computer is malfunctioning, so until I get a new one, I don't know when I'll be able to update again after this weekend.**

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><p>"Who ever heard of a twenty-sixth wedding anniversary party, Mary K.?" I demanded, sitting on my knees in my parents' bedroom, going through boxes and boxes of pictures.<p>

My sister huffed and started organizing the pile of pictures I haphazardly set to the side to use in the book we were making for them. "They were gone last year, so we're having a surprise party this year. Aunt Eileen is all for it," she said pointedly.

"Well, then Aunt Eileen can be doing all the work." I retorted, closing the last box of pictures. "Are there any more?" I asked my sister.

Mary K. was laying the pictures carefully into the book, trying to get an idea for the layout. "There should be some in attic. Just look through their boxes and bring what you can."

I got up, my knees screaming in protest, and went up to the attic. Boxes were not so neatly piled on top of each other and filling most of the space. It seemed like their entire lives were compiled in here.

About a half hour later, I was finally getting into pictures. These were all family pictures; birthday parties, ballet recitals, Halloweens, Christmases…

One of the boxes caught my eye; an envelope was sticking out slightly. I jerked it out of its position between several piles of photos and saw that it was ripped open. There was no address or even a stamp on it, only my name was on the front, in Maeve's handwriting.

I sat back on my heels, feeling my mouth get drier by the second as the shock set in. _My mother wrote this to me_.

I pulled the contents out and a photo slipped from the folded letter. It was Maeve, holding a newborn me, looking as happy and content as one could possibly be. This was the only photo I'd ever seen of me before about nine months old.

I hadn't realized I was crying until I teardrop landed on my thumb. I put the picture and the letter back into the envelope and wiped my eyes with my sleeves.

As I grabbed the pictures and the envelope, a thought occurred to me: my parents had deliberately kept this from me.

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><p>"Here, can you read it?" I asked Hunter, tossing the envelope on the coffee table, still pacing back and forth in his living room.<p>

"The letter is for you, from _Maeve_—why don't you want to read it?"

That stopped my pacing. I rested my hands on the back of the couch, meeting his arrogant, you-know-I'm-right expression. "Because what if it's something I'm not prepared to deal with? It's been opened, Hunter. My parents have read it—what if there's something in her letter that could change everything?"

Hunter rolled his eyes good-naturedly and tugged on my wrist. I glumly walked around the couch and sat down, resting back against Hunter's chest as his arms wrapped around me.

"It won't change what you already know," he breathed in my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "It may just be a confirmation. She loved you, Morgan. She wouldn't have given you up if she could have protected you."

I nodded. "I know. I'm just scared that it'll say something to the contrary. I mean, why would my parents have continued to hide it from me, even after I found out I was adopted?"

"I think you already know the answer to that." Hunter stated. He kissed down my neck, inciting pleasant little tingles where his lips touched.

"I do," I agreed. "I just hate that they kept it from me. I mean, I'll never get to see her again, Hunter. Ever."

"I know, love." He said, his tone taking on a sadder note, and I felt sorry for bringing this up.

"At least you have memories of your mom, Hunter," I told him softly. "I don't have any of mine."

Hunter kissed my temple, and I snuggled back against him, his arms tightening around me.

My mom had had a fit about a month ago. I'd been _so stupid_ and left Maeve's BOS out in the open with my schoolwork. It's like I _wanted_ to be caught.

She had demanded to know where I'd gotten it, who I'd gotten it from—any and all incriminating details, she wanted to know about.

So I told her a version of the truth—I found it in a witch's library. I didn't specify the witch. My parents had insisted that I take the book back, that I get rid of it. They hadn't wanted me to read it just in case there was anything that could have upset me.

I wondered if that's why they kept the letter from me—because something in there _would_ upset me.

So now as Hunter tilted my chin to envelope me in a heated kiss, I decided that confronting the parents who raised me was something that could wait.


	7. Summer Plans

**This installment is short and disgustingly sweet. Hope you enjoy! If so, please press "Review this Chapter" at the bottom of the page.**

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><p>"So if I let you go," I started, and his eyebrows rose speculatively. "When will you be coming back to me?"<p>

Hunter shifted into a sitting position, wrapping his hands around my waist and resting his forehead against mine.

We were sitting in the little secluded meadow where, just a few weeks ago, we made love for the first time. It had quickly become my favorite place in the world—the soft grass, the spring flowers and the blue sky and sunshine above us; this was as close to perfection as possible in my life.

"Just for the summer, love. Like I've told you a thousand times."

I nodded, my nose brushing his and inciting a giggle from me. "I know," I said, and it unintentionally came out sounding like a whine. "But I guess it will be easier now that I'm going to Scotland."

Hunter pulled back, eyes wide in surprise. "They said yes?"

I bit my lip. "They haven't made the official announcement, but when they sent me to get my picture taken to renew my passport, I got a little suspicious and did some digging. I'm flying out in about three weeks."

"You're not one for surprises, are you?" he asked.

"Not really." I said, my tone flat.

Hunter leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine, a little shiver going down my spine. "So at least we'll be able to see each other this summer."

I nodded. "Unless, of course, you don't want to see me," I said in mock-seriousness. "I mean if you're going to see your girlfriend back home, I don't want to intrude."

His eyes narrowed in thought. "No, no girlfriend. Two kids though."

"Oh?"

"Yes, and I'm sure they'd love to meet their future stepmother."

I sat back, folding my arms across my chest. "I'm going to be a stepmother? Jeez, I should start brushing up on my Disney movies. They all make the stepmother sound so wicked."

"You do have witchy tendencies," he offered.

"Very true." I agreed. "I feel like I need a witchier name than 'Morgan.' It just doesn't sound very intimidating. If I'm going to be an evil witch, I need a more commanding title."

"I promise you're intimidating." He assured me, pulling me into another kiss. Would his touch ever not affect me? I felt like I could never get enough of him.

I pulled back to catch my breath, my heart beating out of my chest. "Just to clarify, there aren't actually kids, right?"

And then the bastard just laughed at me. I smacked his chest and he caught my wrist and lay back, pulling me on top of him. "None. The only children I want are with you—in the distant future." He added.

I got off of him and lay on my side, propping myself up with my elbow. "What would you do if I were pregnant now?"

"Do you have something you need to tell me?"

I shook my head. "I just want to make sure you're not a deadbeat and leave me alone at seventeen with your baby to support. In all seriousness, I really don't want to have any reason to be on _Maury_ or _Jerry Springer_."

"You're not pregnant?"

I laughed. "No, definitely not. You think I'd be this calm if I were?"

Hunter rolled his eyes good-naturedly and pulled me underneath him, our legs intertwining and lips fusing together.

And just like that, all thoughts of him leaving, of Scotland, of babies and futures, evaporated as we got lost in each other.


End file.
